


Crowley's Secret

by Dragonmad



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crack, Gen, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-22
Updated: 2007-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-26 10:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/281977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonmad/pseuds/Dragonmad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CRACK! Body-swap/gender-swap and jaw dropping mis-use of this televised fashion event. Oh,  and a scantily clad demon. *G*, i love fandom!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crowley's Secret

 

The demon known formerly as Crawly, was quite proud of his work on earth. But of all his creations he was incredibly chuffed with, was his work in the fashion industry. No other industry inspired so many sins at one time. Not many people realised this, but Crowley was the one to have inspired the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show. He’d gotten several commendations for it and fulfilled several quotas as well. Of course, he wasn’t the one to actually _create_ the lingerie, but he was certainly the one to inspire the increasingly small sizes. He was also the one that came up with the idea of televising it.

 

This was partly due to the fact that Crowley - as any self-respecting demon should – adored television. He was responsible for several programs – mainly those late night trivia shows – but The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show was something to _really_ be proud of. It was flashy, with lots of glitz and glamour, it had millions of dollars pumped into it for lighting design, costume, money for people to do hair, make up, people to dress people, stage people, camera crews, lighting crews, sound crews, vocalists, renting the venue, diamond encrusted bra’s, you name it, this show had it.

Pride and envy were so incredibly easy in such a setting, it was almost laughable. Girls primped and preened in front of mirrors while assistants flitted about with the sole job of making beautiful people….well, beautiful. The girls fought over who got to get to wear which strip of fabric, sulked when they didn’t get the one they wanted and threw tantrums that would give even the most flamboyant prima donna a head-ache. But the lust that was inspired by such an event, was the most amazing thing.

  


Crowley’s quota for this deadly sin was filled for a good few years1. Men drooled. Women drooled! Dogs drooled! Well… naturally, but that's rather beside the point.

Each year, at the opening of the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, the world stopped to watch scantily clad super-models flounce down the cat walk in impossible heels and incredible shawls, capes, jackets, hats and more. This world wide enthrallment was, of course, aided by the fact that the televised event reached not only the VIP’s in the audience, but every house inAmerica, as well as several other smaller countries2.

  


So, one year, before the famed event hit the run way, Crowley figured, why shouldn’t he – being the show’s rightful creator – join in? Why should all the super-models have the fun?  


  


After careful studying, he struck upon the perfect formula. Dark raven locks that were thick and wavy, falling mid way down his back, skin like porcelain, long slender legs, and an incredibly large bosom5. All it required was a session of very intense concentration and it was done. He now easily rivaled those strutting the cat walk.

The actual walking part took a bit longer to master - who knew that it was that difficult to walk in 6 inch heels? He was more than slightly impressed the girls pulled it off and decided he'd reward them for it later.  


Yellow reptilian eyes flicked from their involved study in the mirror to the various plants decorating the modern looking apartment. Red, full lips quirked upwards in something that resembled a cross between a smile and a smirk - both dangerous and evocative. The leafy foliage quivered in fear.

With a thought, an elegant black trench coat appeared draped over the back of his chair. Gathering it, Crowley took one last glance at his reflection. Liking what. h- _she_ saw, the serpent proceeded towards the door. th a flick of her long, neatly manicured fingers, the door opened, and the demon left, the door closing with a soft click behind her. If it were possible for vegetation to look relieved, the plants in the apartment certainly would have displayed such emotion.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The roar of a vintage Bentley was the only warning the few paparazzi had before the classic car came to a stop right in front of the carpet that lined the way to the theatre's back door. Turning in anticipation the media hounds posed, cameras ready. The engine switched off, the door opened, and a slender limb, bearing an incredibly high-heeled black snake-skin stiletto emerged. A second later, the cameras were not disappointed, when an incredibly beautiful, dark woman exited the car, draped in an elegant black trench-coat. Silver-grey eyes batted impossibly long lashes at the waiting men. There was a stunned silence as each man was frozen in lust-addled shock before a hundred light-bulb flashes went off within seconds of each other followed by the clamour of voices. A mountain of a man fought his way through the crowd to the lady’s side and cut a path for the beautiful creature to the door, ushering her inside. The door closed behind the walking wonder, and the crowd outside was left to despair and remember the beauty of the vision they, for a fleeting moment, had seen.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Pride cloakedCrowley as she strolled through the mass of women, envy following him like thick rolling wave that was almost choking in its intensity. The demon was immediately set upon by a team of make up and hair people, but they could find little to do that would further heighten her attributes apart from adding a smoky eye liner beneath immaculately arched eyebrows. Dresser’s came next ushering her into a screened off section – a rare privilege at such a show – into a lacy black number, that hugged her body like a second skin. She was left for a short time, the various management teams falling over to ingratiate themselves to her, telling her that she would be replacing Giselle as the starring attraction. But it was when she saw Heidi Klum go running towards the entrance to the catwalk that Crowley fell upon an idea.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The show had been successful so far, but then again, _all_ of the Victoria’s Secret show’s were successful. It was a written rule of broadcasting. But there would be a new edition this year. Rumour had quickly made its way throughout the awaiting audience, and anticipation spread. As the show was winding to a close, the audience began to fidget in their seats as the model had still yet to appear.

 

And then, as the last model exited the cat walk, a double door built into the set opened. Framed in the doorway, a lithe figure was backlit by a blinding light that obscured all features. Again, the cameras raised in anticipation of the money shot, fashionistas andHollywood celebrities leaned forward in their seats, and the audience held their breath….

 

With the world watching, Crowley stepped out onto the cat walk.

 

~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Aziraphale had been quite a busy angel. He was unsure how exactly, but somewhere along the line people had become aware of his bookshop, and as a result, he’d been having to spend much more time dissuading people from buying his books than he did normally. The angel had a sneaking suspicion that Crowley had something to do with it. He’d been conspicuously absent for several months now. Though what he’d done or was up too, had yet to be discovered. Aziraphale had double checked all the papers to make sure an ad hadn’t been placed about his shop. He’d never forgiven the demon for that one, though at that time, it had been a ‘For Sale’ ad…Still, one never knew what infernal agents got up to these days. Best not to be careful really.

  
Feeling entitled to a break, he’d allowed himself to visit one of his few mortal contacts for tea. They’d spent a lovely afternoon discussing various nothings, and updating one another on what they’d been up too. His friend had insisted on watching a tv show, and Aziraphale, being a gracious guest, obliged him and kept his discouragement about the media quiet.

  


Flicking through various cable channels, Samuel stopped when he found the program. Aziraphale tsked in disapproval. Samuel smiled sheepishly, “What can I say? They’re catchy!” Aziraphale pursed his lips in annoyance. He had never been able to thwart these kind of shows6. He watched as a vapid model with a pasted on smile exited the runway. Two doors opened onto the cat walk, and light silhouetted a lithe figure. A heavy beat of music played and the light faded as the model began to strut down the walkway in tiny underwear. Aziraphale took a sip of tea in hopes of swallowing his distaste. An amazing amount of flash photography went off, illuminating the figure and the angel quickly choked. Tea splashed everywhere as he dropped the porcelain cup, which promptly shattered on the wooden floor. Samuel whistled low at the sight before him as, unheeded, Aziraphale stared in open-mouth shock7.

 

The model glided down the run way in what appeared to be black snake-skin stilettos, tiny lingerie and amazingly large black wings. Feathered, black wings that were a lot bigger than the one’s the models usually wore8. Reaching the end of the runway, the model stopped in an incredibly suggestive pose and winked at the cameras with a seductive leer.

  


If he were capable of it, Aziraphale was sure he would’ve had a heart attack.

  


Crowley gave a final smirk before turning his back on the thousands of people watching his every move and disappearing behind the screen. The audience went wild. Aziraphale felt faint.

 

Samuel turned to comment when he noticed the other man’s expression, mistaking it for something else. “Hey… no offence or anything, but … I thought you were gay?”

 

Aziraphale’s gaze flicked off the tv screen and his jaw snapped shut in irritation.

 

Oooh, Crowley was in _BIG_ trouble now!

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*

 

THE END ^_^

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Only reason why it didn’t fulfil his whole quota was because downstairs preferred a more ‘hands-on’ approach.
> 
> 2\. Most shocking was the fact that it’d reached Australia. The country was notoriously known for its bad taste in broadcasting. A fact the demon had been quite happy with, but he’d liked how this fashion show had reached the beer guzzling country.
> 
> 4\. Which, in itself, made it even easier to fulfil his lust quota. Which was quite fun in and of itself. 
> 
> 5\. And he should know. He’d seen many bosoms in his time on earth. Especially from the pre-roman days. All those scantily clad women….He had to slap himself to bring his wandering mind back to present day.
> 
> 6\. Crowley had even done an entire segment inspired by tartan to try and change the angel's muse. Aziraphale was not amused. Though he had said:“See! Tartan _is_ Stylish!”
> 
> 7\. Quite a rare expression for an angel. Shock wasn’t really something in the job description after all.
> 
> 8\. No small feat considering how big some of those are!
> 
>   
> 
> 
> Well… he _is_ a Flash Bastard TM  
> 
> 
> Yes. I know. Im very disturbed. *G*
> 
> (p.s. No offense meant to Aussie's, I am one, so Im merely poking fun!)
> 
> eta: (29/10/09) I've since gone back and fixed some of the most obvious spelling mistakes - I do apologise! There were quite a few! - as well as changed one part in the middle. Hope it still works. I'm aware that the footnote numbers are now out of synch, but I'm embracing laziness and cant be bothered fixing just now.


End file.
